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Updated: May 12, 2025
This incident is one of those that are best remembered in the book, and has made the "Saracen's Head," Towcester, a notable Pickwickian landmark.
However it was very nice to leave cards of calling on Lady Towcester even though she was out of town on account of air-raids and on others, inscribed: "Lady Rossiter, Colonel Sir Michael Rossiter, Sir Michael and Lady Rossiter;" and to see printed foolscap envelopes for Michael arrive from the War Office and lie on the hall table, addressed: Colonel Sir Michael Rossiter K.C.B. etc., etc., etc., etc.
He fortified the towns of Chester, Eddesbury, Warwick, Cherbury, Buckingham, Towcester, Maldon, Huntingdon, and Colchester. Sax. p. 108. Flor. Sax. p. 110. M. West. p. 182. Ingulph. p. 28. Sax. p. 110. Some discontents, however, prevailed on his accession; and Alfred, a nobleman of considerable power, was thence encouraged to enter into a conspiracy against him.
This is the one which killed the poor fellow near Towcester. If Mannering's bullet is identical with this, I should have nothing more to say; but," he continued meaningly, "both your revolver and mine are of a different calibre to the weapon which fired this. If the bullet which hit Mannering should prove to fit either of our weapons, there would be no need to seek for further evidence.
The adjourned inquest on the victim found near Towcester supplied columns of copy, while the robbery of the Brighton Mail afforded unlimited scope for the descriptive reporter as well as for the special crime investigator, who at this time made his permanent appearance on the staff of nearly every paper of any importance in the British Isles.
And at the end he clapped him upon the back and said again and again that he loved him, that he was a dear, sweet figure of a lad, and that his voice among the rest of England's singers, was like clear honey dropping into a pot of grease. But it is a long ride from Towcester to St.
Pickwick decided to take the "advice" of his trusted servant, which caused the landlord to smile with delight. The pilgrim to Towcester to-day, searching for the sign of the "Saracen's Head," would find himself on a fruitless errand, for it was changed scores of years back to the Pomfret Arms.
In fact, if he had not committed the murder at Towcester, I am convinced that the public would have elevated him to the position of a great popular hero. Even as it was, he had no lack of apologists; and an eminent ballad-monger celebrated his exploits in some verses, which were immensely applauded when recited by long-haired enthusiasts at smoking concerts and similar gatherings.
Once clear of the houses again, I let her rip for all she was worth; we simply flew along. With my right hand on the wheel, my feet on the two pedals, I sat as tense as a fiddle string, my one object to peer into the road ahead. We had covered ten of the fifteen miles between Stratford and Towcester, when I became aware of a deeper blotch on the blackness ahead.
Again I rode as far as Towcester. I had a chat with the sergeant of police, and found that, though search parties had scoured the country round for miles, no intelligence had been obtained. I made arrangements to appear at the inquest on the following day, and returned to St. Albans. Still no news. I got home again about seven, sick at heart.
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